Prom and All That Comes With It
by SouthernChickie
Summary: Richie takes Angie to her prom. NOW COMPLETE
1. Invitations

"Hey, Mac?" Richie called coming into the store in socked feet, rollerblades in hand.

"Richie…" Duncan warned raising his eyebrows toward a customer.

"Sorry, my bad."

"Go get me the information on the Inca fertility statue."

"Sure."

"Take your skates," Duncan hissed when Richie tried to put them by the stairs.

"Sorry." Richie grinned at the couple Duncan was talking to.

He heard Duncan apologize as if, "He's 18," was all the explanation needed for the interruption. When Richie came back with the file folder, they were all smiling and chatting. He handed off the papers then excused himself back to the office. Duncan came into the office five minutes later and began to write up the sale.

"Finally getting rid of that thing, huh?"

"Get your feet off my desk."

Richie moved his feet and sat up. "So you sold it?"

"No, I'm practicing," Duncan rolled his eyes. "And what have I told you about barging in here like that when we're open?"

"Don't do it," he answered promptly.

Duncan chuckled. "One of these days Tessa and I are going to expect you to not only remember the rules, but to follow them as well."

"Baby steps, Mac." Richie smirked.

"Uh-huh." Duncan went back into the store, chatted with the couple for a bit longer, then they left with the statue and Duncan went back into the office. "What did you want?"

"Next Friday and Saturday."

"Off?"

"Yeah…"

Duncan sighed and sat on the edge of the desk. "What's her name?"

"Mac, it's not like that."

"So you don't have a date?"

"Well, yeah, but nothing romantic," Richie said. "It's just Angie."

"Angie? The girl who works at the shelter?"

"Yeah. I promised her last year if she didn't have a prom date I'd take her."

"Ah, so you're going to prom next weekend?"

"Yeah."

"Of course you can get off, then."

Richie smiled and stood up. "Thanks."

"If you give me some help this weekend."

Richie groaned and turned around. "Doing what?"

"Just some grunt work, spring cleaning the store room."

"Aw…man!"

"You were going to do it anyway," Duncan assured him.

"Oh, I was?"

"Yup. Now go get cleaned up and help Tessa with dinner."

"Prom?" Tessa's eyes lit up at the mere thought. "You're taking someone to prom?"

"It's no big, Tess," Richie shrugged it off as he set the table. "Its just Angie; she doesn't have a date so I'm taking her."

"I want to meet her." She handed Richie the trivets to put on the table. "Why don't you invite her over for tea? And her parents, too."

"You already met Angie," he insisted. "Besides, we don't do "tea" in America."

Tessa turned around from the Chinese dumplings she was frying in the wok. "Is she the girl in the bedroom?" she asked with a twinkle in her eye. He blushed and busied himself putting small bowls of dipping sauce in front of the plates. "She is, isn't she? Richie, she's so cute! You two would look adorable together!"

"It's not like that, Tess."

"Call her," Tessa encouraged. "I want to meet her parents, too," she reiterated.

"Tess," he sighed.

"Invite them to dinner this weekend."

"You're serious?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I think it would be appropriate."

"Why?" he asked again.

"If you two are going out together, then the families should meet."

"Her parents already know me."

"But they don't know us," she told them. "Call them after dinner or I will call them tomorrow."

"You don't know their phone number."

"I know where she lives, remember? I drove her home that afternoon."

Richie sighed, obviously defeated. "Fine."

After the dinner dishes were washed and the kitchen cleaned, Richie retreated into his room with the cordless phone and the list Tessa had given him.

"Hi, Mr. Burke, this is Richie. Can I talk to Angie, please?" he said when the line was picked up. He heard Mr. Burke yell for Angie, then hand the phone over.

"Hi, Richie," Angie answered. "What's up?"

"What are you doing Saturday?"

"Nothing, why?"

"Tessa wants to have you and your parents over for dinner sometime this weekend."

Angie laughed. "Why?"

"She said it would be 'appropriate' since we're apparently going out now."

"Let me talk to my parents and call you back."

"Sure."

He pushed the talk button to disconnect the line and sat back against his head board. Might as well get started on what all he needed to do before the dance. He rummaged around his desk until he found some paper and a pen to make a list of things he had to do. He was staring at the very short list…okay, blank list… trying to think of what he was missing when the phone rang.

"Got it!" he yelled before answering. "Hello? Oh, hi, Mrs. Burke… yeah, sure, hang on…" He covered the mouth piece and walked out into the apartment. He found Tessa on the couch with Duncan. "Um, Tess? Mrs. Burke wants to talk to you." He handed her the phone.

"What's her name?" she asked.

Richie shrugged. "Mrs. Burke."

Tessa and Mrs. Burke talked on the phone long enough for Richie to become disinterested. He went back into his room and tried to work on his list some more. He couldn't think of much more than "get tux."


	2. Getting Ready

Saturday morning Richie woke up, prepared to help Duncan with whatever grunt work he had in mind. He stumbled out of bed and wandered into the kitchen; the promising smell of French toast leading his half-asleep body through the living room.

"Good morning, partner," Duncan greeted him. "Set the table for me, will you?"

Richie responded with something between a "sure" and a yawn. He set the table then sat down and closed his eyes, propping his chin in his hands.

"Still asleep?" Tessa teased him, coming up from having gone out to get the newspaper. She put her hands on his shoulders and leaned over him. "Milk or juice?"

"Juice please."

Tessa giggled and went to the refrigerator. "One of these days you're going to wake up before breakfast."

"Isn't that one of the signs of the apocalypse?" Duncan asked.

"Muh…" Richie grunted at their jokes, folding his arms and putting his head down.

"Oh, Rich, we're just teasing," Tessa assured him.

"Yeah, I find it rather amazing that you can eat while asleep."

"Duncan…" she scolded.

"Okay, Rich." Duncan went over to the table carrying a platter of French Toast. "You can stay asleep but you have to sit up."

Richie obliged him.

"I think you need this." Tessa put the warmed syrup in front of the teen.

After half a bottle of syrup had been ingested, Richie was able to put a few words together in coherent sentences.

"So what's on the agenda for today?" he asked as they fell into their clean-up routine.

"Clean up," Tessa told him.

"Store room or store in general?"

"Apartment. Angie and her parents are coming to dinner tonight."

"I know. But Mac said that if I wanted next weekend off…"

"We'll do it this week," Duncan told him, passing scraped dishes to him to put in the hot soapy water.

"And by 'we' you mean 'me,' right?" He washed the plates, then handed them to Tessa to dry.

"I also want you to come with me to the storeand helpmake dinner." She handed the dry plate to Duncan to put away.

"What are we having?"

"Quiche."

"Is that the thing with the meat and radishes in the sweet dough?"

"No, those are Cornish Pastes," Duncan said, wetting a towel to wipe down the table.

"Oh, yeah."

"I thought you liked those?"

"I did. I'm just trying to remember what a quiche is."

"I believe you called it an 'omelette pie'," Tessa smiled.

"Oh, that thing, cool."

After the kitchen was cleaned up, Tessa dusted, Richie polished and Duncan vacuumed. Then the dining room furniture was polished and a nice table cloth laid out. Richie was sent to clean his room, despite his protests, and Tessa went to take inventory while Duncan went down to open the store. Once Richie's room was clean, Tessa dragged him off from fresh market to fresh market gathering ingredients for the quiches, salads and strawberry shortcake.

"How many 'omelette pies' are you two making?" Duncan asked as Tessa and Richie walked past him, each loaded down with sacks of groceries.

"Four," Tessa answered casually.

"Four?" he repeated. "How many people are going to be here?"

"Only Angie and her parents."

"So you're making four quiches?"

"Of course. Don't just stand there, Richie," she sighed at the teen who was listening to the conversation. "We have dinner to prepare."

"Don't I at least get lunch first?"

"I'll make you a pizza once the oven preheats, just go." Into the kitchen they went. Richie was set to work grating wheels of cheese into separate bowls.

"They have electric graters now, you know," he grumbled.

"You are welcome to go buy yourself one," Tessa told him, sliding a frozen pizza into the oven.

By the time Richie was done with the cheese, Tessa had pan seared boneless chicken breasts and had him chop those into a third bowl while he munched on his lunch. After a long afternoon of grating, mixing, chopping, kneading, measured, pouring, scrambling, sprinkling and tossing, Tessa and Richie put together four quiches which were baking in the oven, filling the apartment with a garlicly aroma.

"It smells great up here." Duncan inhaled deeply.

"It's making me hungry," Richie said as he set the table.

"So what else is new?" Tessa teased. "Go get changed."

Rolling his eyes and mumbling, Richie retreated to his bedroom.

"You really pulled out all the stops," Duncan observed, nuzzling Tessa's neck.

"I just want them to like us."

"What's not to like?"

Richie appeared a few minutes later in a nice work shirt on and his hair combed.

"I suppose I better got get cleaned up as well," Tessa decided. "You, too, Duncan." She took his hand and the pair started off down the hall.

"Hey, guys," Richie called after them. They turned to look at him. "Not so fancy, okay? Angie's parents aren't so rich, you know?" he told them. "This place is already too fancy as it is…" He looked around the lavishly decorated loft, the silk wall hangings, crystal figurines, and antique tables.

Duncan nodded. "Of course, Rich."

Once they changed, Richie drilled them on what was and was not allowed:

1)No flirting, giggling, or mushy touchy feely stuff

2)No talk about traveling abroad

3)No talk about opera or other rich people stuff

4)No talk about his police record or how they met

5)And no, absolutely no, under any circumstances what-so-ever, no matter how tempting the idea may be, how perfect the set up, were they allowed to embarrass him.

The back doorbell rang.

"Promise," Richie demanded. Duncan and Tessa tried to repress their smiles. "Promise," he repeated, still moving toward the door.

"We promise," Tessa said, with all the sincerity she could muster.

"Mac?"

"I promise, Rich."

Satisfied, Richie went to answer the door.

"What are we allowed to talk about?" Duncan whispered to Tessa as they followed. She snickered and hit him in the arm.


	3. Dinner

Richie opened the door. "Hey, Ange." He stepped aside and let the petite brunet in, followed by her parents. "Uh, Duncan MacLeod, Tessa Noel," he introduced stiffly and awkwardly as if he had been rehearsing. "This is Mr. and Mrs. Burke, Angie's parents."

Tessa smiled and extended her hand to Mrs. Burke, who seemed pleasantly surprised by the attempt at a formal introduction. Once everyone had gotten introduced, Duncan led the way into the living room where Richie took the Burkes' jackets and laid them over the chez recliner in the alcove.

"If you'll excuse Richie and I, dinner should be ready in just a moment." Tessa smiled and took Richie by the arm before leading him to the kitchen. "She's very pretty."

"You promised not to embarrass me," Richie quickly reminded her.

She smiled. "I know…"

"So that means you can't…"

"I know."

"Then what do you want?" he asked suspiciously.

"I want you to get everyone what they want to drink."

"Got it covered," Duncan announced coming into the kitchen.

"Then take dinner to the table," Tessa changed Richie's instructions.

They had put together four quiches. Richie's favorite was bacon, black olive and mushroom. Duncan insisted that he had to eat a piece of spinach-mushroom before he could have any other kind.

"For the iron," he explained.

They also made a ham-onion quiche and a broccoli-chicken one as well. Richie carefully carried each one to the table and set them on trivets.

"It all smells and looks so wonderful," Mrs. Burke commented as they sat down at the dinner table.

"Thank you," Tessa smiled. "I can give you the recipe if you'd like."

"That would be wonderful."

Duncan sat at the head of the table serving everyone a slice of whichever quiche they wanted. When he got to Richie, he just cut a slice of spinach and handed it to him. Richie ducked his head to hide his burning cheeks when he caught Mr. and Mrs. Burke pass a smile.

"So, Angie," Tessa started once everyone had been served. "How did you two meet?"

"Third grade. We, uh, had a bully problem."

Richie snickered into his coke. Angie slapped him under the table.

Duncan frowned. "So you two are the same age?"

"Angie got really sick in seventh grade," Mr. Burke explained. "She missed too many days of school to be allowed to advance."

"Oh," Duncan nodded. "I was just thrown off for a minute."

"Richie speaks very highly of both of you," Mrs. Burke changed the subject.

"Good to hear the training worked," Duncan smiled.

"We haven't seen him this happy in a long time," she continued.

"Or this well behaved," Mr. Burke added.

"Dad!" Angie groaned, coming to Richie's rescue as he slumped down and concentrated on his food.

Tessa smiled slightly before changing the subject. "So, do you have any plans for the summer?"

* * *

The meal had wound down to the adults talking and Richie and Angie exchanging glances. Once dessert had been eaten, Richie leaned over to Angie and whispered "Wanna go watch TV?"

"Yeah."

They got up and cleared their plates before quietly taking their leave as the conversation turned to the stock market.

"I hope I am no where near that boring when I'm old," Richie groaned closing the door.

"Tell me about it."

"So, Ms. Burke," Richie imitated in a deep voice. "How about that paint, is it dry yet?"

Angie giggled and sat back on his bed. "So, I cut the grass today."

"Fascinating. What setting did you have the blade at?" He sat next to her, propped up by the headboard and flipping the channels on the TV.

"I had to call the plumber to fix the kitchen sink"

"What size wrench did he use?"

"Oh! Stop!" she ordered when Saturday Night Live was on screen.

A few minutes later the door opened and Duncan stuck his head in. "Ah, here you are."

"What?" Richie asked, puzzled.

"Just wondering where you two had run off to."

"Right here, Mac," he answered.

"Just checking." Duncan disappeared from the doorway, leaving the door hanging wide open.

Richie chuckled and shook his head.

"Old fashioned?" Angie asked.

"That and he loves to annoy me."

They settled back and watched the rest of the show. Less than an hour later, all four adults showed up in the doorway.

"Come on, Angie, time to go," Mrs. Burke said.

"We just started a movie," Angie protested, gesturing to the screen as the opening credits flashed.

"Angela…"

"I'll take her home," Richie piped up. "Besides we need to make plans for next weekend."

Mrs. Burke looked at her husband, then Duncan and Tessa who nodded approval. "Just not too late, I don't want anything happening to you two."

"If it gets to be too late, I'll go with them," Duncan promised. He had seen Richie's old and Angie's current neighborhood. The Burkes' concern was no exaggeration.

"Night, Ma." Angie turned her attention back to the screen.

As the black and white horror flick reached its climax, a loud clap of thunder from outside caused both teens to jump, then giggle nervously trying to play off their spook. Duncan came in a minute later with his coat on and keys in hand.

"Sorry, guys. We need to get Angie home before the sky opens up and all hell breaks loose."

With put out sighs, they got up and searched for shoes and coats then followed Duncan out to the alley. Just as Duncan reached for the door that led outside, they heard large raindrops splattering against the walls of the building. They didn't have to open the door to know that it would take a complete moron to go out in that weather.

"Lets call your parents before the power goes out," Duncan shrugged, turning the teens around and herding them up the stairs.

Arrangements were made and soon Angie and Richie had set up camp in the living room with a new movie in the VCR and a large bowl of over buttered popcorn between them.

"We're turning in," Duncan said before he and Tessa went back into their room. "Can I talk to you for a second, Rich?"

"What's up?" Richie asked, glancing away from the screen.

"Come over here," Duncan prompted. Then when Richie had made it into the hallway: "I think the gentlemanly thing to do would be to let Angie have your bed and you take the couch."

"Sure, whatever."

"And keep in mind that if I find you two cuddled somewhere asleep in the morning, that I own you between now and prom and I'm sure I can find plenty of unpleasant things for you to do."

Richie rolled his eyes. "Alright, Mac."

Duncan smiled. "Okay, good night."

"Aren't you going to tell me to stay outta the cookie dough, it's too late for sweets and be sure not to put forks in the electric sockets?"

Duncan cuffed Richie lightly in the jaw. "Watch it, you."


	4. Shopping

The next morning, Richie was snoring softly on the couch when Duncan went out for his run. The storm the night before had been long and fierce, but that morning was calm and pleasant, if not a little chilly. When Duncan got back, Tessa was making coffee and Richie had rolled over to hide his eyes from the light coming in from the kitchen.

"Morning," he greeted her, kissing her cheek.

"Morning," she replied. "I see your threats worked." She nodded her head toward the snoring teen.

"After what we caught them at last time, I think they were warranted."

"I don't think we caught them at anything, we caught Richie at something. Angie didn't seem that interested."

"Richie's a smooth talker," Duncan defended. "Given enough time, he probably would have gotten what he wanted."

"Well, he didn't then and he didn't now… and I don't think you give Angie enough credit. She seems like she's immune to his smooth talk."

"Oh, like you, Ms. I-saw-a-hundred-and-fifty-dollar-jacket-in-the-store-that-last-week-I-told-him-he-couldn't-have-but-now-I-bought-it-for-him-because-he-gave-me-that-certain-look?"

"That's different."

"How?"

"That's me. I'm talking about Angie," she shrugged with a grin.

Conceding to defeat, Duncan looked back out into the living room. "So what now? Do we wake them up or let them sleep?"

"Let them sleep. We'll call Angie's parents in an hour or so and see when she has to get home by."

Angie ended up staying for lunch, then Tessa and Richie took her home on their way to find him a tuxedo for the dance.

"So, what color is her dress?" Tessa asked as she looked at the different colors of cummerbunds, vests, and ties in a shop across town, not affected by the search for a suit for prom.

"I dunno," he shrugged looking disinterestedly around the store.

"Did she tell you want color to wear?"

Richie frowned. "Why would she?"

"To match, of course."

"We gotta match?"

Tessa sighed. "What did you wear to your prom last year?"

"I borrowed a suit."

"Do you want to just wear your suit, then?"

"Everyone else has been saving up all year to get a tux and I'm the one with the good job. I'd look like a cheapskate."

"Call her and ask." Tessa pointed at the phone next to the register.

Richie found the salesmen and asked to borrow the phone. A few minutes later, he came back. "Red."

"What shade?"

He looked at her in confusion. "Shade? It's red. Red is red."

"Crimson, magenta, scarlet…"

"Oh, you're kidding me. Red is red," he insisted.

"No. See," she flipped through the silk accessories in front of her. "Brick red, poppy red, cherry red…"

"I get the point. Hang on." He went back to the phone. "Adobe?" he told her when he returned.

"Hum…" She flipped through the cummerbunds then seemingly at random held one up to him. "Oh, that looks great."

He took it from her then compared it to the others. "They all look the same to me."

"They're not," she assured him. "Now, cummerbund and tie, or vest and tie, and what kind of tie?"

Richie's eyes went wide. "It's a tux. Since when were there so many decisions involved in getting a tux?"

"Since you told me you didn't want to look like a cheapskate." She looked through the accessories and pulled out all the appropriately colored items.

"I have the suit," their salesman said. "In that dressing room there." He pointed to a small cubical with the curtain drawn back and a shirt, pants and a couple jackets hanging on the back wall.

Richie went back into the room to change. When he came out, Tessa drug him over to the three way mirror and started putting a tie around his neck. He made a face but let her tie the bow tie.

"Now, let's see how it looks with the vest." She held it up. "Your arm goes…"

"Tessa, I'm a big boy, I can dress myself," he mumbled taking the vest and fumbling his way through putting it on. When he got it on, he had to admit it didn't look too bad. He shrugged on the jacket and admired his reflection. He nodded appreciatively. "I look good."

Tessa smiled and nodded her agreement. "What about tails? Wouldn't that look debonair?"

"No. It'd look stupid," he corrected her quickly.

"Just try it."

"I like this, Tessa," he told her. He pulled at the breasts of the jacket. "It's classy."

"You like the vest?"

"Yeah." He started posing for himself in the mirror. "I like it. Looks good."

"Stand still for a minute." She began checking the fit of the jacket and trousers. "Can you let the cuffs out a bit?" she asked the tailor, tugging at Richie's sleeves.

"It would be easier to get a bigger jacket and take it in," he told her. "I'll go get one." He disappeared into the back.

"Hum…" Tessa puzzled over Richie's attire. "We need cufflinks, shoes and socks…" she mumbled to herself.

Two fashion-debating hours later, Tessa and Richie arrived home with the promise that his suit would be ready by the next afternoon. As soon as he was inside, Richie raided the fridge for left over quiche as a pre-dinner snack. Then he went back into his room and flipped channels until he was called for dinner.

"Tessa was telling me about your suit," Duncan said as he served himself homemade stir-fry. "Sounds like it's going to look really nice."

"It does," Richie answered without an ounce of modesty.

Duncan chuckled. "So, it's red, right?"

"Yeah the vest and tie are." He took the rice dish and heaped some into his bowl. "Some dark, shiny color. Real nice lookin'." Richie said, dipping his egg roll in sweet and sour sauce.

"So, did you and Angie make your plans?" Duncan asked. "Where are you going to dinner?"

"Angie and Beth are taking me an' Cameron to dinner Friday night. Then he and I are taking the girls to Spaghetti Warehouse before the dance," Richie answered. "Oh…can I borrow a car Saturday night? Beth can drive Friday but he brother needs the car Saturday."

"Sure. You can take the T-bird," he said. "We'll get it washed Saturday afternoon, too."

"Cool, thanks." Richie smiled and started eating his rice.

* * *

Two days later, Tessa went down into the store and found Richie sitting behind the desk looking through an appraisal book trying to find the jade broach in his hand.

"Hey, Tess…this look like the same thing to you?" he asked holding up the broach and the book.

"Wrong era," she told him.

"That's why I can't find it." He shut the book then began searching for the next volume.

"I have a surprise for you," she told him.

"Yeah?" He turned around and looked expectantly at her.

"Reservations for you and your friends for Saturday night at Pier 97."

Richie frowned. "Pier 97? That ritzy place downtown?"

"I know the manager so I got you in at 5:30 and he promised to give you all a great table." She beamed at him. Richie stood staring at her. "Aren't you excited?"

"Um…well…see…" he floundered.

"What's wrong?"

"Tess… we can't afford that place."

She smiled at him. "Don't worry about it. Whatever you can't cover, we will."

"Uh…Tess…that's really nice of you an' all…but…I-I don't think so. That'd just be too…"

"Too what?" she asked.

"Elitist?" he supplied tentatively.

"Elitist?" she repeated. "I just thought that your prom should be special…"

"And I appreciate that, Tess. And maybe if it was just Angie and me, I'd take you up on it. But Beth and Cameron are coming, too and I don't wanna look like I'm showing off, you know?"

Tessa still looked a little hurt that her gift was being rejected, but had to admit she understood. "Alright."

"I know you were trying to do something cool…just, you know… you gotta keep it in perspective. Cameron's stretching his budget as it is."

"I understand, Richie, I'm just not used to worry about it."

He shrugged. "Welcome to my life. I gotta be careful about what shoes I wear around these people."

Tessa looked Richie up and from his designer label shirt, Guess jeans and brand new, clean, top of the line, Air Jordans. He had come a long way from his thrift store jeans, hand-me-down shirts and Army surplus boots. "I never thought about that."

He shrugged again. "Whatever. Thanks though, it's the thought that counts, right?"

She smiled. "Of course. But my offer still stands about the costs. Don't limit yourselves. Get what you want and if you and your friends don't enough money put it on the credit card and they can pay us back later, alright?"

"Alright."


	5. Dinner

Friday night at six thirty, there was a knock on the back door. Duncan answered it and found Angie and two other teens standing in the alley.

"Hi, Angie." He stepped aside and let them in. "You two must be Beth and Cameron. I'm Duncan."

"Hey," they greeted.

"Richie ready?" Angie asked.

"He's in his room, go on back."

Angie led the way through the kitchen to Richie's room.

"Damn!" Cameron exclaimed when Richie opened the door and let them into his room. His eyes glanced around the large bedroom filled with two guitars, a drum kit, TV, Nintendo, stereo, overflowing CD tower, king sized bed… "Moving on up, are we?"

Richie smirked and tied on his boots. "Trying to make it look that way."

"You ready?" Beth asked impatiently. "I'm starved."

"Yeah, lemme grab my jacket." They went out into the hallway and Richie got his racing jacket out of the hall closet.

"Why do you even want to hang out with us, man?" Cameron continued looking over the posh living room.

"What are you talking about?" They trooped out to the back door. "BYE!" Richie yelled over his shoulder before leaving.

"Why go back to the Hood when you've made it in the Heights?" Cameron continued as they piled into Beth's Mazda that she shared with her brother.

"I haven't made it in the Heights," he insisted. "I just got a lucky break. So where are we going?"

"Emerald Mist," Beth said from the driver's seat. "That Irish pub where that retro club used to be."

"Awesome." Richie leaned back in his seat and looked over at Angie. "I'm supposed to ask you about a corsage."

"What about it?"

"Do you want one?"

"Hadn't thought about it. My mom made me get you one of those….things." She held her hand up to her left shoulder. "Those flowers, you know?"

"Then I'll keep my order for yours," he decided.

"Yours is in the fridge."

"I have to pick yours up tomorrow."

"Did you get me one?" Beth asked Cameron.

"Um..."

"I'm picking it up for him tomorrow," Richie cut in. "What color was your dress again?"

"Blue."

"That is what I told you, right?" Cameron asked, playing along.

"Yeah. Just wanted to make sure."

"You two are smooth," Angie laughed.

"So not close to getting away with it," Beth added. "But a decent try."

"Worth a try," Richie shrugged.

They arrived at the pub and were seated at a table in a dark corner. They sat and talked about what all was going on in their lives.

"School is horrible," Cameron was saying as their food arrived. "I can't wait to get exams outta the way."

"That's why Richie and I already graduated," Beth bragged.

"Barely," Angie added.

"Speak for yourself," Richie defended. "I didn't do too bad."

"What was your average?"

"B."

Angie nodded her approval. "Not too shabby."

"So don't rag," he teased her, shoving her a little.

"Better not, I may need a tutor," she shoved him back.

He laughed and snagged a chip off of her plate. "Don't look at me, I don't remember anything."

"Stop taking my food! You got chips of your own you know."

"Taste better this way." He took another.

She slapped at his hand and tried to push him away. "Thief!"

"Hey, no need to get personal…" he laughed.

"Why don't you two just kiss and get it over with?" Beth asked.

"I don't like him like that," Angie insisted.

"Oh, pa-leese," Beth drawled. "You two have had the hots for each other for years."

"Sure, whatever," Richie said.

"Look, you're blushing!"

"I am not!"

"Beth, can you not play matchmaker for one day?" Cameron asked. "If they don't want to go out then chill."

"I'm just saying, it pretty obvious."

"Chill."

* * *

Richie waltzed into the loft at two o'clock that morning. Tessa was asleep on the couch with a book open on her chest. The lamp was on and there was a cup of cold tea on the coffee table. He debated if he should wake her or not, but decided that the couch was too uncomfortable to leave her there the rest of the night.

He took the book from her hands and gently shook her shoulder. "Tess," he whispered. "Tess, I'm home."

"Hum?" she shifted her weight and opened her eyes.

"I'm home," he said again.

"What time is it?" she squinted at the clock across the dark room.

"Late enough for you to get mad when I tell you what time it is."

"Which is?"

"Little after two."

"That's not too bad." She sat up and stretched a bit. "I'm going to bed."

"Right behind you. I'm bushed."


	6. Getting Ready

Richie frowned at the grey, darkening sky. Of all the days for the weather to go bad… All week the sun had been out and shining. And now, on prom night, the TV meteorologist announced that there was a 90 chance of rain. He sighed as the first drops of the storm splattered against the living room window. Barely moving, he fell over the back of the couch and stared at his socked feet sticking up in the air.

"Couldn't you have held out one more day?" he asked the ceiling. "One lousy day? Is that so much to ask?"

"Sorry, Richie," Tessa said coming out from the bedroom. "Maybe it will clear up by tonight." She looked down at him from between his feet. "At least you don't have to wash the car now."

Richie sighed. "I guess. But now there's gonna be puddles everywhere and it's gonna be cold…"

"Richie's it's April, of course it'll be cold."

"Yeah, my jacket's gonna look really great with that tux."

"You are a vain little thing, aren't you?" she teased him, shaking his feet.

"Hey, I'm thinking about Angie, here," he insisted. "How's she gonna look if her date's got a racing jacket over his tux? Kinda a mixed metaphor, isn't it?"

Tessa smiled. "I'm sure we can come up with something."

"Stupid rain."

"Well, there's nothing to be done of that."

"Hey, you two," Duncan came up from the store. "Uh-oh…" he saw Richie laying upside down on the couch. "Sorry, Rich, nothing we can do about it." He walked past them to the hall closet. "I need to run out for a minute. So I closed for lunch. I'll be back in less than an hour."

Tessa watched Duncan put on his coat. "Wait!" she went to him and pulled at his over coat.

"Tessa, what are you doing?"

"Richie, come here, try this on." She held the coat out.

"Why?"

"For tonight."

"What's going on?" Duncan asked.

"Richie needs a coat for tonight, this would be great."

"No, I've got something better than this." Duncan reopened the closet and reached toward the back. "Try this one." He held up a designer dress coat.

Richie rolled of the couch with a thump. He shuffled over and took the coat. "It's not gonna fit," he grumbled shrugging it on.

"It almost does," Tessa said pulling at it, trying to make the coat fit her statement. "No one will notice."

"Especially if we tailor it a bit," Duncan added, rolling the cuffs. "I can't remember the last time I wore this. We'll make it yours."

"There's not time, the dance is tonight," Richie grumbled. "We won't get it back in time."

"I can do it," Duncan said. "I can take in the shoulders, take in the seams a bit… it'll only take a couple hours."

"You sew?" Richie asked, dumbfounded. "But you're a…"

"Watch it," Tessa stopped him.

"No, I mean…just…I never pictured you behind a sewing machine."

"When I learned, there weren't sewing machines."

Richie laughed and shook his head. "No way."

"It wouldn't hurt you to learn," Tessa told him.

"Uh, I think I'm good."

"We can't start lessons today, Rich. I think you're safe for at least a week," Duncan teased. "What time do you need to leave for Angie's?"

"Uh, dance at eight, dinner at 6:15, pictures, Angie and Beth are gonna be late… I guess I gotta leave a bit before five."

Duncan glanced at his watch, it was just before eleven. "We can do that. I'll get this done and you can run my errands. I'll be done in plenty of time."

Tessa got out and set up the sewing machine while Duncan pinned and marked the overcoat before sending Richie on two deliveries and to pick up lunch.

"He's going to look so suave tonight," Tessa mused watching Duncan rip the seams of the coat. "It's really sweet of you to give him that."

"It'll look good on him."

Tessa smiled.

"What?"

"I just think it's cute, what you're doing for him."

"Well, I'm glad you approve."

"Maybe we shouldn't take it in too much…" Tessa fingered the material. "That way he'll have some room to grow."

"I think Richie's pretty well full grown," Duncan commented.

"He may have an inch or so left."

"I'll leave him some room," he promised.

By the time Richie came back with chili and rolls for lunch and two corsages (and over twenty dollars of tips in his pocket), the coat was in pieces and ready to be fit to the teen. After they put the chili on the stove and the rolls in the oven to keep warm, Richie was put on display in the living room and the coat was pieced back together at a smaller size.

"Maybe I should'a just worn my coat," Richie said and Duncan pinned the back seam.

"Too late, now, Rich."

"I felll kinda bad, though. I mean all this work so I can have a coat for one night? Kinda pointless."

"You'll use it more as you start going to more events."

"I bet I could'a rented one."

"Not tonight."

"Still weird, though. Only here would someone think it was logical to rip apart a perfectly good coat and put it back together a little smaller in one day for a prom."

Duncan chuckled. "I suppose it's odd when you put it like that. But with such short notice…"

"I guess, not like I got the money to buy one."

"Okay," Duncan stepped back to inspect his work. "We'll do this much for now. We'll do the sleeves after I get the body sewn."

True to his word, Duncan had the coat ready for Richie before he even started to get ready for the dance.

"What do you think?" he asked, holding the coat up.

"Wow," Richie looked up from the TV. "Looks like you just bought it."

"That's the idea. Come here and try it on."

"Mac, I've tried it on a thousand times, it always fits," Richie grumbled, even as he got up to put it on.

"Perfect." Duncan dusted the shoulders and pulled at the cuffs. He told Richie to hold his arms out, move like this, move like that and everything fit just as it should. "Well, there you go. All done."

Richie smiled shyly and he shyly looked away. "Thanks, Mac."

Duncan clapped his shoulder and smiled at him. "You're welcome, partner."

Richie glanced at his watch, it was almost four. "Guess I gotta start to get ready." He shrugged the coat off. He gave Duncan a small, tight grin then retreated into his room to get ready.

He took a shower despite his day of inactivity and started attacking his hair with gel and moose before it was even dry. Duncan and Tessa had long ago learned that Richie had a very specific way of getting ready for formal events. And each endeavor had to be perfect before he would go on to the next. He spent twenty minutes getting his hair to achieve the perfect balance of groomed, yet natural.

"Don't touch it!" Richie screamed as Duncan threatened to give him a noogie as he made his way from the bathroom across the hall to his bedroom. "I just got it how I want it."

"Okay, okay, I was just teasing." Duncan put his hands up in the air. "Do you need any help getting dressed?"

"Not yet."

Richie went into his room and closed the door before rummaging through his drawers for his best under clothes. While he didn't think Angie would let him take their relationship further, he could always hope. Beth was right the night before at the pub. Richie had liked Angie since they were young. But she had always been out of reach, dating another guy or just flat out too good to date Richie. But now, he felt he was good enough for her. And they did tend to flirt a lot when they were together. It was at least worth a try.

Slowly he got dressed, careful not to muss his hair as he pulled his trousers on and buttoned his shirt. He tucked in his shirt, got his vest on, grabbed the cufflinks and his tie and went out in search of Duncan or Tessa to help him out. He found them in the living room.

"Well, look at you," Duncan chuckled. "You look great."

"Help," Richie said flatly, holding out the cufflinks and tie.

"Well, before I do that…" Duncan took the items and put them on the coffee table. "I thought you might want to look at these, too." He handed Richie a square white box that the teen recognized as one they used to package jewelry in the store.

Richie took the box with a suspicious eye. "What is it?"

"Just an option. If you don't like them, then we'll stick with what you got at the shop."

Richie opened the box. Inside was a set of simple gold and ruby cufflinks with a matching broach. "Whoa…"

"Now, those are just on loan if you want to use them; you have to give them back."

"Do you like them?" Tessa asked. "I just remembered we had them this afternoon."

"Yeah…" Richie said taken one of the cufflinks out of the box. "These are great. I love 'em."

"So it's decided. Just be careful." Duncan took the box from Richie's hands and fastened the links. Then clasped the broach at Richie's throat.

"Go get your coat and shoes," Tessa demanded as soon as Duncan let go of the broach. "I want to see how it all looks."

With a self-flattered grin, Richie went back into his room and came out fully dressed, looking like someone out of the pages of GQ magazine.


	7. Speeches and Picutres

Richie pulled the T-bird up in front of Angie's building with Duncan and Tessa behind him in the Mercedes. They insisted on coming along to take pictures. Richie got out of the car and straightened and smoothed his coat and pants before hitting the buzzer to apartment 1F.

A window to the left of the entrance opened and a little boy stuck his head out. "Yeah?"

Richie smiled at him. "Hey, Andy, lemme in, would ya?"

"Who's that?" Andy pointed out Duncan and Tessa.

"They're with me. Let us in."

"Can't."

"Why not?"

"Don't know them."

Richie groaned. "Andy, let us in!"

"Andy, who's there?" a voice asked from inside.

"It's me, Peter! Lemme in!" Richie yelled.

"Who's Peter?" Duncan asked as they were buzzed in.

"Angie's sister's husband. They live down the hall. Guess Amanda's helping Angie get ready. "Thanks, Peter," Richie said as the young man let them into the apartment.

A little elementary school aged boy was giggling in the living room. "You look stupid!" he declared pointing boldly at Richie.

"Just wait until your mom calls me to baby-sit. I'll get my revenge." Andy stopped laughing and hid ran into his room. Richie smiled. "I thought as much."

"Angie's nearly ready," Mrs. Burke announced coming into the tastefully decorated living room. "Richie, look at you…" she gushed. "How lavish! I am truly amazed."

"Hello, son." Richie turned around to see Mr. Burke coming down the hall at him with a hunting knife in his hands.

Duncan immediately took hold of Richie and Tessa's wrists.

"Oh, no," Richie groaned, taking his wrist out of Duncan's grip. "Are you going to do this to me every time?" he asked Mr. Burke.

"Yes, sit."

"Malcom…" Mrs. Burke laughed. "He won't hurt him," she told Duncan and Tessa who were still a bit tense.

Richie flopped down on the couch and Mr. Burke sat in the arm chair next to him.

"Do you know what I'm holding?"

"A knife," Richie groaned in answer.

"What kind of knife?"

"A hunting knife."

"And what do I hunt?"

"Boys," Richie answered.

"He does this every time someone takes one of his daughters out," Peter said. "You should have been there when I asked him for permission to marry Amanda."

"And when do I hunt boys?" Mr. Burked asked.

"When they take out your daughter and hurt her."

"And what do I do?"

"Hunt them down and use the knife where-ever necessary," he droned back.

"And am I going to have to hunt you down?"

"No."

Mr. Burke smiled brightly. "Good boy. You look good by the way."

Richie smiled. "Thanks, Mr. Burke. Am I done now?"

"Unless I need to do the apple speech…"

"No apples required," Richie laughed.

"Do I want to ask?" Duncan inquired, still not sure how comfortable he was having someone, even jokingly, threatening Richie with a hunting knife.

"It's where he puts one apple on top of the other, tells me which one is me, then cuts it in half with the knife," Richie answered just as someone buzzed the apartment from outside.

Minutes later, Cameron and Beth walked into the apartment followed by mothers with cameras. Beth said hi to Richie then went back into the bedroom to see Angie. There was a loud squeal when the door was closed and, presumably, both girls had gotten a good look at the other. Richie took the corsages from Tessa and handed one to Cameron.

"Thanks, man, how much?"

"Twenty when you got it. No rush," Richie told him.

Cameron nodded and smiled tightly at him.

The parents introduced themselves to Duncan and Tessa. Jasmine was Beth's step-mother and Constance was Cameron's foster mother. Nice to meet yous were passed around and Mr. Burke sat Cameron down for the same talk he had given Richie. Constance laughed at the speech, apparently Mr. Burkes' little talks were well known around the neighborhood. The girls came out a moment later to much oohing and awing.

Beth's pale blue dress shone against her dark skin. It had a high cut neck and low cut back and had silver thread pattern subtly shining on the whole gown. Her hair had been braided into millions of tiny strands, each formed into tight ringlets. The sides were pulled back in matching blue barrettes shaped like butterflies. Cameron stepped forward and Richie sucked in a deep breath when he realized he had given Cameron the wrist corsage, which meant he was stuck with trying to pin Angie's to her dress. Cameron put the elastic around Beth's wrist and she fumbled her way through pining a rose to his lapel. Constance and Jasmine snapped pictures of every move and posed the couple at the fire place as Richie and Angie waited nervously for their turn.

Angie's adobe red dress set off her skin tone perfectly. It had a sleeveless bodice and full skirt with matching shawl. There was delicate beadwork and fringe along the bottom of the bodice and shawl. Her hair was all swept up to the top of her head spilling over a tiara in curls that framed her face beautifully. Richie grinned shyly as he tried to place the corsage without touching her inappropriately in front of her father and his hunting knife. She smiled and helped him pin the flower. Then it was her turn to pin his flower to his lapel.

Tessa and Mrs. Burke were busy snapping away and they mumbled compliments to each other. "You look great," he blushed at her as they were pushed into a pose.

"You don't clean up so bad yourself, you know."

"Thanks."

Once Tessa and Mrs. Burke had enough pictures of Richie and Angie together, they pushed all four teens into pose after pose in front of the fireplace, on the couch, in front of the building, in front of the car…

Finally the last shutter had snapped and the four tees piled into the T-bird and headed for Spaghetti Warehouse. They were not the only prom group there. It seemed that every other table occupied by teenagers in their formal attire. They were seated in a properly prominent table.

Their meal was periodically interrupted by fellow classmates and prom goers. The conversation was held to how everyone looked and school gossip. An hour and a half later, the bill was settled, squeezing Richie and Cameron's wallets dry. The four took their dear sweet time leaving so everyone could see their hot ride.

"Let's buzz the plaza!" Cameron all but demanded.

"Yeah, everyone's going to be there!" Beth agreed.

"Can we, Richie?" Angie asked. "I would love to see the look on Melanie's face when she sees us like this."

"She has been bragging all week about how her military boyfriend just got some new car and all that…" Cameron groaned. "And all the girls would talk about was what Melanie had…"

"Are we talking about Melanie Washington?" Richie asked, putting the key in the ignition.

"Uh-oh," Beth giggled. "Didn't Melanie dump you for her military boy?"

"No, she used him as her jealousy bait," Angie corrected. "When what's-his-name dumped her and she wanted him back."

"Let's go," Richie said with a twinkle in his eye, before shifting gears and heading for the plaza.


	8. Prom

When they reached the plaza, Richie slowed down to a crawl like all the other cars. There was little to no breeze so it was easy to convince the girls to let him put the top down. They cruised around the streets slowly, joining the parade of prom going showoffs, yelling at friends as they passed. Melanie's boyfriend's new car turned out to be a slightly used jeep. It was a nice car, Richie had to admit, but his prom ride was much nicer.

"Eat your heart out, Ms. Popular," Angie mumbled through a smile as she waved at a clearly shocked Melanie.

"I think we win," Richie said over his shoulder to Cameron.

"Thanks to the rich dude you live with," Cameron agreed. "I don't think I could get anyone to lend me a car this nice for the night."

"Think we can convince anyone it's mine?"

"Never in a million years. Unless you tell them you boosted it."

Richie laughed and turned along with the impromptu parade and headed toward the high school where the dance was being held. As they pulled into the parking lot, Richie put the roof up again pausing to make sure it closed all the way, in case it rained again. They piled out of the car, checked to make sure they had their tickets and filed toward the entrance. They checked in their coats with the chaperones that were in charge of watching over the pile of belongings and took small ticket stubs so they could reclaim their things. After handing over their prom tickets and passing the metal detector test, they were allowed into the gym, which had been decorated for the dance.

"Looks nice!" Richie yelled over the music.

"Yeah, not too shabby," Angie called back.

Richie awkwardly tried to come up with something to do as they looked around at the students that had arrived and were arriving.

"You, uh…you wanna dance?" he asked.

"Uh, sure!"

He took her hand and they made their way to the mostly empty dance floor and began dancing to Joan Jett, and not soon after they had found the beat, Boys 2 Men came on. Richie paused then tentatively reached out and put his hands on Angie's hips. She blushed a little then put her hands around his neck. He smiled at her, shyly and slowly led her around the floor as the music serenaded them. One verse into the song, he stomped on her foot.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled pushing back. "I always do that. I'm just not that good at this slow stuff.."

Angie smiled at him. "It's okay."

"Tessa's tried to teach me a million times, I almost broke her foot once…" he continued the apology.

"It's okay," she repeated, putting her arms about around his neck. "I have flat feet anyway."

He flushed and tried to find a place to look at, but kept finding himself staring at her face. She smiled at him gently each time he caught her eye.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I don't know what's wrong with me…"

Angie smiled. "It's okay."

He made it through the rest of the dance without incident and knew exactly what moves to use for the next five songs in a row. He knew exactly what was wrong with him, though he was constantly apologizing for little mishaps, staring at certain areas, fumbling over words, and getting lost in imaginative thought. It was his imagination that was getting him in trouble. This was senior prom. And senior prom entailed many things. Stuffy, expensive clothes, hopefully decorated gyms, at least one attempt to spike the punch and lots of dancing. It was what almost traditionally came after prom that Richie was thinking about. He wasn't sure how he should go about asking, or even if Angie had any inclination to agree. Damn his libido. Too much time too close to a female and he was ready and willing.

After an hour, they decided to take a breather and claim two abandoned chairs by the wall.

"You want a drink?" Richie offered.

"Sure," she answered, fanning herself with her hand. "It's hot in here."

"I'll be right back." He headed toward the refreshment table where teachers were guarding the food and drink from those under the impression that it would be funny to spike it. "Two, please," he asked the man behind the table.

"I thought we were rid of you, Ryan," the principal joked, dishing out two cups of red punch.

Richie smiled. "Last time, I swear. I'm on a date."

"Yeah, I saw you Burke on the dance floor. I was wondering when you two were going to bite the bullet."

"Excuse me?"

"Always getting in trouble together, practically inseparable, it was only a matter of time…"

Richie took the drinks with a self-conscious smile. "Yeah, I guess so…"

He moved down the line and looked over the cookies on the table. Mrs. Walden, the detention warden as she was called by the students, was watching over the sweets. Richie stood trying to find the best looking cookies and figure out how to carry them with his hands full of plastic cups.

"Here you go," Mrs. Walden folded four cookies into a napkin and didn't let go until he had everything securely in his grip. "You and Angela make a cute couple," she winked at him as he turned to leave.

Was his little crush really that obvious? Everyone kept telling him how good they looked with each other and how it was about time they got together. He wondered if Angie was getting the same treatment. He saw her smile at him as their eyes met. He smiled back and she looked away. Maybe he wasn't the only one who felt he was on a date…

He took his seat next to her and handed over a cup of punch then the napkin of cookies. "Thought you might be hungry, too."

"Thanks," she smiled. Richie smiled back, at a loss for what he was supposed to say. "People keep telling me we look good together."

"Its 'cause Tessa insisted we match…" Richie indicated the vest.

"No, they mean, in general, you know?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "I've been getting that, too. Even the principal and warden had to put their two cents in."

They sat silently for a while, not uncomfortable, but awkward.

"So… have you ever thought about it?" he asked. Might was well get it over with if they were already talking about it.

"You and me, you mean?"

"Yeah."

She shrugged and bit into a cookie. "Sometimes."

"Me, too," he admitted, downing his punch as if it were whiskey. "You wanna?" he asked suddenly.

"What?"

"You know… after the dance we could…watch the submarine races," he finished with a slight laugh.

Angie thought about it.

"You don't have to, you know," he continued. "It was just an idea. I don't wanna pressure you or anything. I know how to keep my hands to myself."

"Okay," she finally answered.

"See? No problem. Now I'll just make you uncomfortable for the rest of the night cause you think I'm a horny freak…"

"No, I mean, okay, I'll do it."

"Yeah?" he perked up a bit. "I mean, only if you want to…"

"I do. It's what you do at prom, isn't it?"

"Not last year, my date spent the dance barfing."

"All the more reason for you to have fun this time around," she said.

"So, you wanna go?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye and a wicked grin.

"No. I've promised some people some dances, and I haven't found all my friends yet," she told him.

"Okay. It's your prom. Take your time. We'll leave last if you want."

Angie smiled and kissed his cheek. "You aren't a very good actor, but you'll just have to wait."

"You don't mind if I dance with some people, too, do you?" he asked. "While you go through your long list I figure I can scrounge up some bottom feeders."

Angie laughed. "You can find the queen for all I care. But you're my date, just keep that in mind."

"Yes, ma'am," Richie smiled and put out his hand. "Want to dance some more, or do I have to get a number?"

"I'm sure I can squeeze you in…"


	9. Later that night

Duncan heard the oven timer going off, then quickly being shut off. Tessa, fast asleep next to him, seemed not to notice. Quietly he got out of bed and made his way to the kitchen. Richie was behind the counter eating nachos right off the oven pan. He looked up when he heard Duncan in the hallway.

"Sorry," he said in a low tone. "I tried to catch it."

"It's alright," Duncan took a seat on a stool on the other side of the counter from Richie. "You mind?" he reached for a chip.

"Go for it. Jalapeno?" he held up the jar.

"No thanks." They ate for a few minutes before Duncan spoke again. "So, you're back later than we expected."

"Chill, Mac," Richie answered, seeing through Duncan's round about question. "Nothing happened."

Duncan smiled. "I didn't ask that."

"Yeah, you did."

"No, I didn't. I merely commented that you were out later than we expected."

"Which translates to 'where the hell were you'."

"Only to those who feel guilty."

"I have nothing to be guilty about."

"Oh?"

"See, she said sure but then we got there and…" he stopped. "I'm not talking to you about this!"

"Keep your voice down," Duncan hissed. "And I never asked you to."

"Yeah, you did. You said 'Oh?'."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"Like hell it doesn't. It means 'tell me your story so I can see if you're lying'."

"Only if you have something to feel guilty about. And you already said you don't. So I don't know why you're so paranoid."

"I'm not."

"Then why do you have to translate everything I say?"

"Cause with you, you use code."

"I'm not using code. I just want to know how your evening went."

"It went fine."

"You and Angie looked really nice together. I hope you got those pictures like her mother asked."

"First thing…well, almost."

"Good. Tessa wants a copy, too."

"I figured."

"So nothing happened?"

"Mac," Richie put down his nacho. "I'm not talking to you about it."

"That's fine. But if you want to, I was eighteen once, too, you know."

"Yeah, a million years ago when Mr. Burke could'a carried out his threats on ya."

"Four hundred years ago. I'm not that old."

"Three hundred and eighty-two, you're not that old, either."

Duncan smiled. "Touché."

Richie smirked. "Besides, what happened to the 'gentleman' thing to do? I thought you'd freak if I…"

"I was eighteen once," he interrupted. "And I do remember what it was like when it came to girls."

"Don't you think it would be a little weird? I mean, you and me talking about this stuff?"

"Not for me."

"Cause, I just don't get what she did," he admitted a bit bashfully.

"What did she do?" Duncan got up and got two orange juices out of the refrigerator.

"She said yes. So, you know, we did the prom thing and had fun and all that, you know."

"I know," he smiled.

"Then Cameron and Beth decide to go with some other people to this hotel so it's just me an' Ange."

"Alright."

"So we went to the beach; you know that look out over the water?"

"A popular spot, I assume?"

"We weren't the only people there. So we park and we're, like, kissin' and stuff…"

"Okay."

"And just when we're about to, you know," he blushed. "She stopped me."

"So what did you do?"

"I took her home. And when I dropped her off she kissed me and said she had a great night and she'd call me tomorrow so we could get together. I just don't get it."

"That she changed her mind?"

"Yeah."

"This is what's confusing you?"

"Well, yeah, I mean if she didn't want to, why did she say yes when I asked her?"

"Maybe she wanted to when she said it," Duncan told him. "But the more she thought about it and the closer the time came, the more uncomfortable she got. You should be glad she was comfortable enough with you to say no even though you were well on your way. She trusted you to respect her opinion and wants. That's a big compliment to you."

"So, if a chick doesn't wanna…well...then that's a compliment?"

"Yeah. It means she knows that you will respect her and she doesn't have to worry about you pressuring her into doing something she's not ready for."

Richie thought it over. "I always figured it was more of a compliment if she said yes and then went through with it."

"Because you think like a boy." He reached across the counter and ruffled Richie's hair.

Richie gave him a bemused look. "I swear, MacLeod, if I ever live to be as old as you, I will never understand chicks. I mean that's why I like to hang out with guys; they say what they mean."

"And that's why you were translating everything I said earlier?"

"I was right, wasn't I? You wanted to know if I did or not." Richie put the empty pan in the sink and gulped the rest of the orange juice before throwing away the disposable cup.

"I never said that. I just said if you wanted to talk, I was here."

Richie nodded. "Right." He gave a big yawn. "I think I'm done for the day."

"You've had a long day." Duncan tossed away his own cup and put his arm around Richie's shoulders as they walked side by side down the hall. "And you didn't say anything to be embarrassed of," he added. "So don't worry about it."

Richie chuckled. "Night, Mac."

"Night, Rich." Duncan went into his own room where Tessa was waiting up for him.

"Is he okay?"

"He's fine. Just wanted to talk."

"About what?"

"He's eighteen," he said, as if that was all the explanation necessary.

"He slept with her?"

"No. They didn't do anything."

"How do you know?"

"A guy can tell these things," Duncan told her, crawling into bed. "Though I do have the suspicious feeling he may have a new girlfriend."

AN: okay guys, one more chap to go!


	10. Great Relationships Sometimes Fall Apart

Duncan gave Richie a dirty look as he passed through the office and the teen was still on the phone. "I do not pay you to talk to your girlfriend on the phone. Hang it up."

Richie gave him a sheepish grin. "I gotta go, Ange," he said. "I'll call you when I get off." He hung up the phone.

"How many times, Rich? When you are on the clock, you are not on the phone."

"Chill, there isn't even anyone here. I would'a hung up if someone came in."

"Richie, I know you like her and you like going out with her. But in order to take her out, you have to have money, and in order to get money you have to…."

"Work," he filled in the blank.

"And where do you work?"

"Here."

"Really? Because you don't seem to be keeping up too well." He nodded at the stack of invoices that had been piling up on the desk.

Richie blushed. "Sorry, Mac, guess I just got distracted." He got up and picked up the invoices and went to the filing cabinet.

"Rich, I was just as girl crazy as you at eighteen," Duncan said, attracting the boy's attention. "But I also learned that I had to prioritize."

"How?" he asked, taking the bait.

"Let's just say it involved a switch and my back side."

Richie winced. "At eighteen?"

"He couldn't exactly take away my Game-boy."

"God bless technology."

Duncan chuckled. The phone rang and he reached for it. He spoke to the person on the other end for a minute then covered the receiver and told Richie: "Go tell Tessa she has a call on line three."

Richie returned a few minutes later and began to help Duncan rearrange the store in order to make room for a shipment coming in. Half and hour later, Tessa came downstairs with the phone in her hands and a smile on her face.

"Who was that?" Duncan asked.

"That was the Bureau of Arts and Monuments in Paris. I've been chosen to curate "a historical retrospective on sculpture and form"."

"So," Richie asked. "You'd, like, sit in a museum all day and… curate?"

"Actually," she admitted. "It's a traveling exhibition; it'd be on tour."

"And you'd go with it?" Duncan asked.

"No. But the post is in Paris. That's where the collection will be gathered."

Richie's mouth went dry. "Hell of a commute," he commented.

"It's not exactly a fly over kind of job, is it?" Duncan almost accused Tessa.

"Hold on here!" Richie interrupted before Tessa could answer. "You're not thinking of closing up and jamming off to gay Paree, are ya?" he asked. "I mean, you guys have a big investment here… in time, effort, building up a clientele. And-and reputation. That kinda stuff takes years to build."

"I'm not asking you to do that," Tessa told Duncan as Richie tried to distract himself with whoever was knocking at the door. It was a delivery boy with a package for Duncan.

"You opened it?" Duncan asked, taking the package.

"Just doing my job," he shrugged, glad for the distraction.

Duncan took out the leather pouch and poured its contents onto a display case. He moved the little stones around until he came to rest on an arrangement. "Someone's coming to pay me a visit."

* * *

Richie trudged along behind Duncan in the snow, grumbling about the stupid Washington weather, having to cancel a date to rummage in the wilderness, and anything that could be complained about.

"Fine, we're done," Duncan announced in a groan.

"Good." Richie came to a stop beside him, panting as the elder stretched his muscles.

"So, why exactly did I have to come?" Richie asked again.

"Because in the real world, hormones do not rule everything." Duncan ruffled his hair. "I tell ya what, I'll give you a day off next week to spend with Angie, alright?" The two had dated all summer and spent any amount of time together they could.

They built a fire and sat down to warm up. "So..." Richie asked fingering the runes from the little pouch that had been delivered. "What do these things say exactly? I mean it has to be more than, "Grayson arrives on noon stage, sharpen sword…"

Duncan explained to Richie the runes and explained to him exactly who Grayson was and what was going on.

"Victor Paulus? I heard of that guy; he, like, leads rallies and stuff. He's one of you guys?"

"Actually, he's one of you guys."

Richie smiled. "So, is this why you drug me out here? So you can beat this Grayson dude?"

"He's fourteen hundred years older than I am. There's reason to take him seriously."

Somewhere off in the distance, a wild animal yelled an echoing roar.

"What was that?" Richie asked, panicked.

"Cougar." Richie's eyes widened at the simple answer. "It's not on the island."

"Just tell me they don't swim."

"Actually, they're great swimmers."

"Well, actually, that's just great."

Duncan chuckled. "Don't worry."

"I've told you a thousand times, I don't do the outdoors."

"You're fine, Rich. Why don't you tell me some more about Angie? I'm not sure I know where her birthmark is," he teased.

"Funny, Mac."

* * *

Everything had moved a little to fast for Richie to keep up with all the details. Apparently, while Duncan held him captive at the island, Grayson had come to the shop to harass Tessa. And Duncan had thwarted an attempt to kill Paulus that had that reporter lady sniffing around again. And somewhere within all the shuffle, Tessa had accepted the job in Paris.

"Take that one down," she told him as he came up from a lunch date.

Richie rolled his eyes at the order and grabbed the suitcase in question. "Whoa." He put it back down. "This feels like a permanent move."

"It could be. I don't know."

"Oh," Richie realized. "That's cool… I mean… no roots, you know…no …bonds… liabilities…"

"Richie…" She realized a moment too late how this was affecting the teen.

"Lemme ask you one question. Why are you going to Paris? I mean, why now?"

"I'll only be a distraction," she told him, loading books into a carry on. "Duncan will think more clearly if I'm not around."

"Well, I think he should worry about you and all those French dues, if you ask me."

Duncan came in from the back room. "That's why you're going with her." He handed Richie and envelope.

"This is a plane ticket to Paris."

"Guess you should pack."

"How long?" Richie asked.

"I don't know."

"I can't go; I can't just move out of the blue like this… what about Angie?"

"What about her?" Duncan asked, after all it was merely teenage love.

"I can't just leave her," the teen insisted. "I mean, I got something going on here!"

"Rich…"

"So that's it? I just gotta pack up and go?"

"It's not safe for you here, Richie. Grayson came after Tessa, he may come after you next."

"So I'll go stay with Angie."

"And put her in danger?" Duncan asked. "If you really like her as much as you say you do, you won't want that for her."

Richie thought about it, then nodded, going back into his room to pack.

He knew that he had to call Angie, but he didn't want to break up with her. But was it fair for him to ask her to put everything on hold until a more stable decision was made about this trip? He picked up the phone, dialed the now autopilot number and made arrangements to meet her in half an hour outside.

As luck would have it, Angie showed up as they were beginning to load the taxi that had been called to take Tessa and him to the airport.

"Hey, what's all this?" she asked.

"I gotta talk to you, and I really couldn't do this over the phone," he explained.

"Where are you going?" she asked looking at the bags.

"Paris."

"France?"

"Yeah…uh, see, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. See…I'm kinda… moving."

"What?" Angie demanded.

"We're moving. Tess and me. To Paris. I don't wanna go Ange, but I got no choice."

"Are you kidding me?" she yelled. "How lame can you get? 'I'm sorry, I can't date you anymore, I'm moving across the world last minute?'"

"No, see… when they first started talking about it, it wasn't gonna happen, then Tessa was gonna go, and I thought I was staying," he explained. "Then I get home from lunch and find out that I'm going and the plane leaves in a few hours. I just found out."

"You just found out?" she folded her arms.

"Yeah."

"You expect me to believe this?"

"It's the truth, Ange."

"Why, why are you moving so suddenly?"

"I, uh," his mind raced. "I dunno, I just work here."

"So are you working in Paris, as well?"

"I….dunno…" he suddenly realized that he had no idea what he was going to do once they moved. "Guess I'll work for Tess at the museum or something, I dunno."

"Guess you didn't think this through as much as you thought you did," she pointed out coldly, turning on her heel and walking away.

"Ange!" Richie called after her. "Angie, c'mon! I'm not making this up!" She didn't even turn around. "Man!" he kicked the tire of the cab.

"Watch it, kid," the driver barked at him, loading the last of the bags.

"Sorry," Richie mumbled stepping out of the way. Angie had already disappeared around the corner. She was gone. End of story. He heaved a great sigh.

"Are you ready, Richie?" Tessa asked briskly walking out to the building with the plane tickets in her hand.

"Yeah, uh…"

"Good." She went straight for the back seat of the car and beckoned him to get in with her.

"Go on, Rich," Duncan said from behind him patting his back.

"You and Tessa broke up?" Richie asked.

"No. You and Angie?"

"Yeah."

"Sorry, partner." He gave him a one armed hug. "You better get going. Can't have Tessa mad at both of us."

"See ya, right?" Richie asked.

"We'll see."

"You're gonna come to Paris when this is all over, aren't you?"

Duncan smiled patiently at him. "I don't know. We'll just have to see what happens."

"That's why you're making me go," Richie realized. "Cause you're not gonna come back."

"I will if I can, Richie," Duncan vowed.

"You swear?"

Duncan just nodded, and gave him a push toward the car. Richie got in and let Duncan close the door behind him.

Richie sighed and the taxi turned the corner and slumped in his seat.

"What's wrong?" Tessa asked him gently, a contrast from her brisk behavior a few minutes later.

"Angie doesn't believe me. She's pissed," he explained. "I mean, this figures though, I should have known. I get a girl who likes me, her mom likes me, her dad likes me… and I just get moved again. Picked up and tossed in the back of a car and shipped off to God-knows-where at a whim…"

"Richie…Duncan and I don't mean to just rip you away… It's just for your…our protection." She put her hand on his arm. "You and I aren't so different right now, you know. Both suddenly having to leave home, someone we love…"

Richie looked at her. "You really don't think Mac is coming?"

"I don't know. But I think we will both survive, non?" Richie quirked an eyebrow at her. "Besides you have your memories, long distance calls, and letters. I can help you pick something out for her, if you like."

Richie thought it over and when they got to the airport, grabbed a postcard off of a rack and borrowed a pen from Tessa.

'Angie-' he wrote. 'I know you hate me right now, but I'm telling the truth. I'm at the airport right now. I'm going to miss you. Really, I am. You were my first actually serious girlfriend.' He paused at the unexpected admission. 'Well, I guess this is it. I had a great time this summer, even if it ended on a bad note. I guess I'll write again when I get our address. -Richie'

He sighed, returned Tessa's pen, and slid the postcard into this backpack.

"You can mail it as soon as we get there," she promised him.

* * *

EPILOGUE

Angie sat quietly on the park bench, waiting for Cameron and Beth to arrive so they could hit the mall.

"Hey, Ange!" Beth called as she and Cameron approached. "Where the hell is Richie? I've been calling him all day and the store is all boarded up. What happened?"

"The store is closed?"

"Yeah, sign says 'til further notice'."

Angie's mouth went dry. He had been telling the truth. "He moved," she answered.

"When?"

"Last week… I have to go." She got up and walked briskly away, toward Westbrook, not stopping until she was in front of the store. Just as reported, the windows were boarded up and the doors firmly locked. She leaned against the front door. He was telling the truth. He really was moving. He really had moved. He really was gone. "I'm sorry," she whispered to the empty street. She sighed and slowly walked back home.

"Angie, what are you doing home?" her mom asked when she came in.

"Didn't feel like going out."

"You got a letter today."

On her bed, Angie found a postcard with the picture of the lighthouse in High Cliff Park on the front. On the reverse was the familiar, girlish handwriting of her ex-boyfriend. At the end of the note, a hopeful arrow pointed at the return address. With an amused grin, she went to her desk and pulled out a few sheets of loose leaf paper from her backpack, wondering how much postage to France would cost her.

AN: many thanks to LoriBelle and Beth for all their help! Please Review!


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